Always US
by gravityfuss
Summary: "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass. The world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense." -Rumi


**Hello. I love to write and you love to read. We both would it even more if it gets better. It'll only get better through your reviews. So please, drop some. Tell me why you liked it. Or why you didn't. I would really appreciate it, Thanks. :)  
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… **. ….. …. ….. …. …...**

Draco picked his broom and left the room. He needed to fly. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to be strong. "Don't think about it you git, Don't. She is alright, she will be fine. It wasn't your fault."

But it was. It was his fault.

September 1st. King's cross station was full of people running to catch their trains. Among them was an 11 year old bushy haired girl with her parents, trying to find her platform. Nine and three quarters? Is there such a platform? What if she didn't find it on time? What if she missed her train? Oh god no, she had been waiting for this day for so long. She was so excited. She can't miss her train. She won't.

"Dad, can't we ask someone?"

"You know we can't honey. We'll have to find it on our own."

"But what if I miss my train? They'll expel me, won't they? Is it a test for the deserving? Oh what do I do, dad we're getting late and I-OH HOW COULD I FORGET?!"

The little girl opened her book bag and pulled out a book. Within 1 minute she had opened it, flipped through the pages, found her answer, and put it back.

"We have to go through that pillar."

Draco Malfoy, rich and spoilt, also, pureblood, sat alone in the empty compartment. He was going to start his education at Hogwarts. He always knew he'll receive his letter. How could he not? He came from one of the greatest and oldest wizarding families. He was a Malfoy.

Still, when he had read the letter, he was filled with such pride and happiness that he went to his room, closed the door, and jumped with joy.

He was determined to make his Father proud.

And so, he sat there, nervous and excited, a young 11 year old kid, with more pressure on his shoulders than what his frail form could take.

Hermione Granger, with hair so wild and bushy that her mum had given up trying to tame them years ago, said her goodbyes to her parents. She was going to miss them so much. Her Dad helped her lift her trunk in the train, gave her a kiss and a pat, reminded her to write often, and left. Hermione saw the retreating backs of her parents, took a deep breath, then turned, dragging her trunk behind her in search of a seat. Excitement took over her within seconds. There were so many of others! The train was crowded with old friends hugging and catching up, while new students tried making new friends and looked for a place for themselves.

"They are all going to be my schoolmates", She thought and smiled. She was determined to make friends. Back, in her previous world, she was always considered too smart and weird by other kids. She didn't have friends. "Their loss, honey. Don't you be sad", her mum had told her time and again. Hermione had fought her loneliness by hiding her face into more and more books. Books were her friends. Books didn't tease her.

Here, in Hogwarts, she was sure she'll make friends. Wasn't she like them? Sure she was, she had got her letter to confirm that. How proud the family had been. How happy. Hermione understood that day why she couldn't fit in with others. It was because she was not meant to. She was cut out for this world. She belonged here. With these wizards and witches.

"Hello. Do you mind if I sit here?" Draco was startled out of his thoughts with the question. He looked up and saw a girl with warm, brown eyes staring at him. Her hair could definitely use some of his mother's expensive shampoo.

"Yeah, sure. Are you a first year too?" He asked.

"Yes. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"Nice to meet you!"

Draco nodded and went back to his thoughts. So, she took out her book and started reading.

Draco couldn't take his eyes off her hair. They were the complete opposite of his. While his were slick and straight, her's were as chaotic as it could get.

"A History of Hogwarts. Isn't that our course book?", he asked, "I've already read it, you know. Twice."

Hermione was amused by his smug tone. "That's nice. I've read it too. This is my fifth time."

Now wait a minute. Draco was not used to being at the second place in anything. So she has read this book five times huh? Well, he had read every other book. All twice. The potions book three times, even.

"Whatever. It's good to know you'll be doing well in one subject at least. I've read all the books, see. Don't be scared though, I'm sure you'll be able to catch up."

"Why would I want to catch up? I've have too read all the books", replied Hermione with her head high.

"Well…Granger, isn't it? Well, Granger, there is a difference between reading and retaining. You might read a book 10 times but not remember what you read. It's okay. The fact that I can easily retain information does not mean everybody else can. I am smarter than average, my Mother says."

"You need not worry about me Malfoy, I remember every word I read. You can test me."

And thus, the two first years started throwing questions and answers back and forth. Each reached deep into their memory and found the trickiest questions, only to have them answered correctly by the other. By the end of the game, each had found respect and admiration for the other. Malfoy had never met anyone who could keep up with him. He was starting to like this girl. Her hair didn't bother him much now, he rather liked them, he decided. He could be friends with her. She was smart and his equal. Surely she's a pureblood. He wouldn't mind much if she turns out to be a half-blood even.

"Oh God, lose already Malfoy!"

"Malfoys don't lose Granger. Malfoys always win."

"I'm hungry. I'm out of questions. And judging by the look on your face, you are out of questions too. So lets please stop, or I'll die."

"The food trolley should be here any minute. I've heard it's got the best pumpkin pastries. I wouldn't mind chocolate frogs either, I love them. Do you collect the cards?"

"I'm sorry, what cards?"

"The chocolate frog cards? You get one with every pack. Don't tell me you don't know about them."

"I don't know what chocolate frogs are. Sounds disgusting though."

"What? How can you not know about them? They are the best thing after Bertie's beans! I don't believe you."

"Um, we don't get them in London."

"What nonsense, sure we do. Diagon Alley has everything."

"Well, it's not like I knew about Diagon Alley before I got my letter. I mean, you don't get them in 'muggle' London, to use your term."

"I…you live in muggle London?"

"Of Course I do. Haven't I told you? I'm Muggle-born."

Draco was 3 when he first heard the word muggle.

He was on a holiday in Venice with his mother, who had come to check the latest robes by the famous designer Antonio Zaccio. When Draco innocently pointed towards a Zaccio store, his mother cut him off.

"It's a muggle outlet, dear. We don't go there."

Muggle. He'd look it up in the fat dictionary back home.

Non-magic people. 'Non-magic people? How can there be such people? Did the book mean squibs?'

Draco had grown up in a strictly magical community. All the people he knew were wizards and witches. His world didn't have muggles. A much older boy at a dinner party held by the Malfoys had told Draco about the bitter caretaker Mr. Filch at Hogwarts who, rumours said, was a squib. That was the first time Draco realised that not all humans are born with magical abilities. Oh well.

"Dobby!"

"Yes little master? what can Dobby do?"

"Who are muggles? I want to know."

"M..m..master?"

"Now."

And so Draco found out about the existence of an entirely different community in the world, muggles. The ones who had no clue about magic. Who didn't even know about the Wizarding world. Interesting, thought Draco.

By the time Draco was 6, he had been effectively conditioned by Lucius Malfoy to look down at the muggles. His initial enthusiasm and excitement about the non-wizarding world had been drained out in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Just in case he forgot, he had scars to remind him. At 8, Draco was introduced to the meaning of the term, Mudblood.

The dear little boy that Draco Malfoy was, the one who wanted to know as much about the muggle culture as he could, the one who didn't understand how muggles could give birth to wizards, the one who was super impressed by the fact that muggles live without magic and still manage quite well, well, that boy was replaced by the Heir of Malfoy Bloodline.

By the time he was ready to board the Hogwarts express, the dear little boy had been forgotten. Muggles and Mudbloods were beneath him. They were to be despised. They didn't belong in his world. He hated them. His Father had told him they were stupid and poorly skilled. Ugh. Surely, Draco agreed with his Father's views. He wanted to be exactly like him; powerful and feared.

He was determined to make his Father proud.

…

"Of Course I do. Haven't I told you? I'm Muggle-born."

Mudblood. Every time Draco heard 'muggle-born', this word flashed in his mind. Mudblood. This girl, was a mudblood. What disturbed Draco the most was how he didn't want to call her that. She didn't deserve it, somehow. How could he, when according to everything he's been taught, mud bloods were…dirty. Not human.

All Draco could do was weakly shake his head. The next minute he was up and out of the compartment mumbling something about changing into his robes. Hermione stared after him. She didn't know what just happened. One minute everything was fine and the next she was sitting alone in the compartment. She felt betrayed which was stupid because, honestly, they'd just met. They weren't even friends yet. Or were they? Well, even if they were, they no longer are. Hermione suddenly felt extremely lonely. She wanted to go home. The familiar burning in the eyes angered her more. Why was she crying? This wasn't the first time she had gone through this. She had plenty of experience. Flustered, she said aloud, "Read Hermione, read."

….

"Erm..have you seen a toad?"

Hermione looked up. At the compartment door stood a chubby boy with pink cheeks looking rather distressed. "He's my pet. I've lost him."

"Oh. No..no I haven't seen any toad around. How long has he been gone?", Hermione asked.

"Um..I don't know, actually. Trevor does that a lot, you see. I just want to find him, I hope he's safe."

"Trevor. I'll help you find him, don't worry. Couldn't have gone out of the train. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. What's your name?"

"You will? Oh, sorry, I'm, I'm Neville. Longbottom."

"Well then Neville, let's go find Trevor."

…..

Draco was relieved to find the compartment empty. He couldn't face Granger just now. Or ever. He didn't know. Why did she have to be a mud-, a muggle-born. Why did she have to be a muggle-born? There surely must be a mistake. She was too smart to be one. Weren't muggles supposed to be stupid? She on the other hand…What if she was just kidding? To tease him? If that's the case, she surely got him. But why would she do that? She didn't look like she was joking.

By Merlin, he was losing his head. He had just met her, by all means. He had other friends. Didn't he? What does it matter if she really is what she says she is? With that hair of hers and those large teeth, she sure was ugly enough to be. And that superior tone of hers, as if she's the daughter of Merlin himself. Stupid girl. Draco couldn't afford to waste time on such losers. He had better stuff to do.

Draco left in search of Crabbe and Goyle.

However, her ugly hair and teeth, or even her superior tone, didn't leave him.


End file.
